


Sunday Night

by rockstarpeach



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Pining Jared, Pining Jensen, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:19:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8599618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockstarpeach/pseuds/rockstarpeach
Summary: AU.  Jensen and Jared have been roommates and best friends for years.  Jensen has been in love with Jared for even longer than that.  Jared’s always shut him down but now Jensen is getting married to the guy he’s been dating for six months, and Jared starts to realise what he’s missing out on.





	

“So,” Jensen says, nudging Jared’s foot with his own where they’re resting on the coffee table. It’s just like every other Sunday night, the two of them on the couch, channel surfing and shooting the shit, drinking too many beers for them to comfortably get up for work the next morning. It’s their thing. No matter what else, Sunday night is theirs. It’s sort of Jared’s happy place.

Until Jensen opens his mouth again, and his next words kick Jared hard in the solar plexus.

“I’m gonna ask Justin to marry me.”

Jared spits out his mouthful of beer all over his pants. “What?!”

“Yup. Tomorrow. Got it all planned out. Takin’ him out for dinner to that fancy Italian place on the corner. Gonna pop the question over desert. Fucker loves tiramisu, and I’m gonna have the waiter bring the ring out on the plate.”

“Are you…” Jared can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Jensen is getting married?! They’ve been roommates, best friends, for going on six years now, and apart from joking around with Jared or the odd sarcastic comment Jensen’s never even mentioned marriage. To Justin or anyone else. Fuck, he’s only been dating the guy for six months and Jensen normally takes longer than that to decide on buying a new suit, never mind deciding to spend his life with someone.

And why the hell is Jared only hearing about this now? They tell each other everything.

“Justin’s a douche,” Jared says, but he’s not. Not really. Sure, he’s kind of dickish, but he’s good for Jensen. Makes him happy and that makes Jared happy. But seriously, married? Jensen’s going to be moving out, obviously, and Jared’s going to have to find a new roommate. He’s so not in the mood for that.

“Hey, you had your chance,” Jensen tells him, shaking his head. “Unless,” he smirks, waggling his eyebrows and taking another sip of his beer. “You changed your mind? Decided you want to become Mrs. Ackles after all?”

“Pfft,” Jared scoffs and when Jensen shifts a little closer Jared can breathe again. Jensen isn’t leaving him, he knows that. Hell, Justin might even say no. Not that Jared wants Jensen to be miserable just so he doesn’t have to find someone else to live with. That would be wrong. “If we got hitched, you’d totally be Mrs. Padalecki.”

“Hey, if that’s what it takes.” Jensen’s joking. Jensen’s always joking. Jared knows this.

“Okay then, sure,” Jared deadpans. “Let’s run off together.”

Jensen stares at him for a few seconds before they both burst out laughing. Yeah right. Him and Jensen. It’s hilarious. Except for the first time, it’s sort of not.

“Seriously though,” Jensen tells him a few minutes later as he idly flips through four different foreign soap operas. “I love him, Jared. I think we’re gonna be happy.”

“That’s…” Jared says, swallowing another sip from his bottle to fight the dryness in his mouth and the sudden lump in his throat. “That’s great, Jensen.”

It is, he tells himself as Jensen settles on a George Forman infomercial and pulls them each another beer from the cooler at the side of the couch.

“Congratulations.”

***

Justin says yes, which is hardly a surprise. Who the fuck would say ‘no’ if Jensen Ackles asked for their hand in marriage? Besides Jared, that is. 

But then, Jared’s pretty sure Jensen was just kidding around when he asked Jared to marry him. All twenty-six times.

Yeah, he’s been keeping count.

Sure, Jensen has a little crush – okay, a monster crush – on Jared. It’s not like he tries to hide it and he’s been trying to get Jared into bed since the day they met. Jared’s never given in though, and sometimes he’s not entirely sure why.

It’s not like Jared hadn’t been tempted that first time. Well, tempted to maybe go out on a date, if not get married to the guy, but Jared likes to move a little slower than that, get to know people, so instead of a husband they’d both ended up with a best friend.

And Jensen’s not what Jared would call a slut, exactly, but he gets around. Or he did, until he met Justin, so brushing off all his blatant flirting has been easy.

Jensen is hot. Jensen is funny and kind and he makes Jared feel like he’s the most special person on the entire planet, but he’s just not in love with Jensen. It just doesn’t affect him, Jensen’s genuine smiles, his accidentally-on-purpose touches, his constant phone calls and suggestions to catch a movie or grab a beer.

His beautiful eyes and his playful mouth and his perfect fucking body. The way he shows up at the retirement home where Jared works and spends entire afternoons playing checkers with Mr. Hatfield, or reading risqué novels to Mrs. Holvey. 

The way he curls himself around Jared on the couch at the end of a long day with the soft sound of his breath in Jared’s ear lulling him to sleep.

The way Jensen comes out of his room in the mornings, flannel pants hanging low on his hips, chest bare and hair sleep-tousled, or the way he presses up close against Jared when he reaches for his coffee mug, breathes in Jared’s sent and then looks away again, red-faced.

Jared suddenly feels warm and okay, so maybe it does affect him, just a little. It still doesn’t make it love, right? 

Jensen calls him Tuesday from work to give him the news. He didn’t come home last night, not that Jared thought he would.

“He said yes!” Jensen tells him excitedly and Jared can picture Jensen sitting in his office, feet propped up on his desk and chair tilted back, twirling a pen around his fingers. He’s probably on his lunch break, probably has the latest episode of ‘House’ streaming in the corner of his computer screen while he catches up on the newest reports on prime interest rates in a larger window.

He’s probably not paying attention to either one, because he just got engaged. Christ. Jared can’t breathe. Why the fuck can’t be breathe? This is good news.

“Jared?” Jensen prompts when the line is silent a little too long and Jared can just see his face change, going from excitement to concern all at once. “You there, man?”

“Yeah,” Jared chokes out. “Yeah, I’m here. That’s… that’s great. I knew he would.” Because Justin may be kind of a dick, but he’s not stupid.

There’s a pause. “You okay?”

Fuck, Jared needs to snap out of it. “Great. I’m happy for you, really. It’s just… wow. Kinda sudden, you know?”

Jensen gives a low chuckle and Jared pictures him sitting forward, elbows on his desk and he hunches over and shakes his head. “I know. But things have been amazing, Justin is amazing. And I figured ‘fuck it’. You only live once, right? No sense putting something off if you know it’s gonna be great. Who knows what you’ll be missing out on.”

Jared laughs, a sharp, short bark. “Yeah. I hear ya.” 

He’s not ‘missing out on’ Jensen. He isn’t. He’s only freaking out a little because things are going to change, Jensen is going to move out. They won’t see each other every day and Jensen won’t be there with hot chocolate and Halo in the middle of the night when Jared can’t sleep. Jensen won’t laugh at Jared’s burnt spaghetti and throw it out, start over and make it himself ten times better. Jensen won’t leave his Thai takeout in the fridge until it starts to grow mold and Jared makes him toss it.

Jensen will never ask Jared to marry him again.

***

It turns out he’s wrong.

“Marry me?” Jensen asks the very next Sunday night, sprawled out on the couch with his feet up in Jared’s lap.

Jared chuckles lightly and shakes his head, leans forward to pour them each another shot of tequila. He hands one to Jensen and they clink their small glasses together before they throw back the drink. It burns a little, but they’re almost done the bottle at this point, so they’re both feeling pretty good.

“I think Justin might have something to say about that,” Jared says and rubs his hand up and down Jensen’s shin. It’s warm. Feels right under his hand.

Jensen shrugs and smiles a blinding smile. Jared shivers and when his dick starts to fill up with blood his chest tightens, feels lighter. “Fuck him.”

“I’ll leave that to you.”

When Jensen falls asleep on the couch at a quarter to one, Jared smiles and slips in between Jensen and the back of the couch, tugs the throw over them both. His arm curls around Jensen’s waist and even though it’s a little too crowded for comfort, Jared can’t ever remember feeling this content.

***

Jensen spends the next Saturday night at Justin’s house and doesn’t get home until well after supper on Sunday. Jared’s silently going crazy, not quite sure what to do with himself because this is their time. They’re supposed to be together, watching cheesy movies. Tonight’s vodka night. And it’s Jensen’s turn to cook supper.

Instead he’s still at his boyfriend’s place. No, not boyfriend. Fiancé. Shit, Jared’s still not used to that. He’s starting to wish he didn’t have to be used to it. Jensen is rushing into this, Jared’s sure of it. And even though Jensen is his best friend, it’s not really Jared’s place to say so.

So Jared just has to fucking sit there, wait and wonder. Imagine. He doesn’t want to. Fuck, he really doesn’t want to. He just can’t help it. Jensen is late, he hasn’t even called, so it’s pretty clear by this point that he’s just forgotten. That he’s forgotten Sunday night and he’s spending yet another night with Justin, because they can’t get enough of each other.

Because they can’t stop touching, laughing, kissing, fucking. And why the hell should they? They’re newly engaged, for fuck’s sake, and something would be wrong if they could keep their hands to themselves.

They’re probably doing it right now, maybe on Justin’s gigantic King, the four poster with Egyptian cotton sheets that Jensen’s told him about, or maybe on the leather living room couch. Maybe in the hot tub. Fuck, these kinds of thoughts should not be making Jared hard. They shouldn’t be making him twitchy and agitated either, because Jensen has been fucking Justin for longer than he’s been dating him and Jared’s been fine with it up until this point.

He looks down and realises that he’s bitten every single nail on his right down so far he should probably think about press-ons when the apartment door is blown wide open and Jensen comes in.

He slams the door shut behind him and barely even glances at Jared as he rushes through the living room and into the kitchen.

“I’m a fuckhead,” he shouts, loud enough for Jared to hear after he opens the fridge and sticks his head in, bends over to look on one of the lower shelves.

“Huh?” Jared eloquently replies, because he’s not so much listening to what Jensen is saying as he’s checking out Jensen’s ass.

“Fuckhead,” Jensen repeats, standing up and closing the fridge door. He puts down a carton of eggs, a jug of milk and a couple of tomatoes and peppers on the counter. “Me. I know I’m late and I’m a fuckhead. I owe you dinner.”

Jared blinks then, looking up from Jensen’s crotch to his face. “Yeah, I…” He catches the sincere apology in Jensen’s eyes then and grins. “You do. So get cookin’ bitch.”

Jared’s already eaten supper – undercooked ramen noodles and a few strips of beef jerky – but he doesn’t mention that.

Jensen brings out omelettes and whisky sours fifteen minutes later and puts the plates down on the coffee table. Jared raises an eyebrow at the choice of dinner food and Jensen looks sheepish, blushes. Jared kind of wants to maul him. Fuck, what the hell is wrong with him?

“Sorry,” Jensen says, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he sits down next to Jared. “Didn’t have time to go grocery shopping so it was either this or pork and beans. And I know better than to spend any time with you after you’ve got a can of beans down you.”

Jared purposefully doesn’t think about why it is that Jensen had no time to shop and decides to appreciate the gesture for what it is. An apology and an attempt at quality time between eternal best friends.

That gets blown out of the water when he picks up his fork and looks down at his plate to dig in.

Marry Me? is written sloppily in ketchup across the side of golden-yellow egg and Jared is suddenly this close to saying yes. To forgetting about dinner and dragging Jensen into his bedroom. To play out what he’s been thinking about for a lot longer than he’d like to admit.

What he does is wad up his napkin and toss it at Jensen’s face.

“So tell me about your weekend with Loverboy,” he says shakily, stuffing a bite of omelette into his mouth. It’s so fucking good his cock gets a little hard.

Jensen does, and even though Jared doesn’t want to hear it he listens, because he’s Jensen’s best friend. It’s his job.

***

Three weeks later it’s Jared’s turn to cook them supper. Cooking has never been what he’d call a forte and for some reason he’s really friggin’ keen on impressing Jensen these days.

Instead of his usual frozen pizza and bagged salad, he practices seven times in two days and surprises Jensen with a pretty damn well-cooked chicken parmesan. He even buys some micro-greens, what ever the fuck they are, and when he puts it all on the plate it looks amazing.

And it goes fucking great with the kick-ass bottle of Merlot the guy at the grocery store told him to buy.

“Well hey there Martha Stewart,” Jensen teases when Jared puts the food down at their kitchen table.

“As if,” Jared scoffs, taking his seat across from Jensen. “If I was Martha Stewart you’d probably want to marry me even more than you already do.”

He quirks his lips and stabs a funky shaped leaf of… something with his fork.

Jensen’s eyes go soft around the edges as he cuts into his chicken.

“Impossible,” he says softly, and in that one moment, Jared believes it.

***

A week later Jensen orders them Indian.

“Seriously?” Jared scoffs. “Take out? I’ve come to expect better of you, man.”

Jensen’s lips turn up and he shifts closer to Jared on the couch, knees brushing. 

“Figured you ought to get used to it. I’m gonna be moving out soon.”

Jared’s heart stops for several seconds and when he can finally breathe again he still feels dizzy. “Soon?” he chokes out. “What’s soon?”

Jensen shrugs.

“Few weeks I guess. We set a date,” Jensen tells him, mouth full of channa masala and naan. “For the wedding.”

Yeah. Because Jared needed clarification.

“When?”

“October 8th.”

Jared nearly chokes on his chicken vindaloo.

“That’s in two months!”

“Hey,” Jensen says, that same damn teasing voice as always as he leans closer. “You could always marry me instead. I’m sure you’d make me wait a lot longer than that before we tied the knot.”

“A lot longer,” Jared mumbles in agreement. It’s what’s expected. It’s what he’s always said. Just because he might be feeling a little bit of something else these days doesn’t mean Jensen is, and it would be unfair to bring that shit up at this point.

Jensen is happy with Justin and Jared’s never been interested anyway. He needs to cut his loses and move on.

“That hurts,” Jensen grins. “Fine, fine. You’ll at least be my best man?”

Jared isn’t enough of a douche to say no, even though he sort of wants to.

***

The next week they’re stuffed full of the pizza Jared ordered and more than half drunk on beer, Jared sitting on the couch with Jensen’s head in his lap as Jensen flips through a Modern Bride magazine.

“This shit blows.”

Jared chuckles. “You’re the one that told Justin you’d pick out the flowers.”

“Sure you don’t to marry me instead? You wouldn’t make me pick out flowers, would you?” Jensen asks, putting the magazine down across his stomach, eyes looking up at Jared.

“Baby, I’d make you pick out the flowers, the caterer and the fucking DJ.”

Jensen scowls, adjusting himself in Jared’s lap. “You would, wouldn’t you? I’m starting to see the up-side to you shooting me down like a fucking dog for six years running.”

Jared’s starting to see the down-side.

***

Two weeks later and they’re back on the couch. 

Sunday night with leftover fried chicken cooling on the coffee table and Jensen’s arm wrapped around Jared’s shoulders.

“Would you kill me if I made you wear a lime green tie?”

Jared looks over at the magazine and berates himself for not being a better best man. It’s not his fault. That colour of green is atrocious.

“I would, but I’m shit at hiding bodies.” He’s so cool. “Whatever you want, Jensen. I want to help make this day good for you. Best day of your life.”

Worst day of Jared’s life, he can’t help but think.

“Hey, it’s not too late to change your mind you know,” Jensen says and fucking nuzzles Jared’s cheek with his nose. “If you want to be one of the grooms you can look like James bond instead of an oversized leprechaun.”

“Think Justin will have me?” he teases around a grin that almost hurts, because it’s better than crying.

***

Seven weeks pass.

Jensen’s still there with hot chocolate in the middle of the night, still cooks great spaghetti, still curls up with Jared at bedtime.

He’s still there with warm looks and welcoming touches for no reason at all he still looks at Jared like he’s the sun and the moon. He’s still there for Sunday nights.

In the past seven weeks Jensen hasn’t asked Jared to marry him once.

It should be a relief. It’s not.

***

The wedding is on a Monday.

Yeah, it’s a weird day for a wedding, but it was important to Jensen. He said it would give him and Jared one last Sunday night together

Not that it would be a last Sunday, because they’re still going to make a point of getting together once a week, even after Jensen’s a married man, but it’s all about the symbolism.

One last night together. Just the two of them.

Jared can’t argue with that, except that he wants a thousand more nights with just the two of them. A million.

***

Jared plans the bachelor party for Saturday night.

It’s at their apartment, with all their friends. Jensen’s brother and cousin are there too, along with a generous handful of young male Padaleckis. Jensen and Jared are the only gay ones though, but the rest of the guys are pretty good-natured about the three hot naked guys wandering around offering people lap dances.

Naturally they spend most of their time on Jensen and one even offers to take Jensen somewhere a little more private.

Jensen, unsurprisingly, turns him down.

Jensen might be all about the free love most of the time, but when he’s committed to someone he knows how to keep it in his pants.

He flirts though, makes the strippers feel comfortable, desirable. Shoots them covetous looks that promise that if he wasn’t spoken for he’d have them bent over the back of the couch in a heartbeat while at the same time being completely respectful.

It’s a gift. He’s perfect.

Justin is one lucky motherfucker.

“Dude,” Jared says when he and Jensen are leaning against the kitchen counter passing a bottle of vodka back and forth. “It’s your fucking bachelor party. Last chance to get laid, no repercussions.”

“There are always repercussion,” Jensen says, shaking his head. “And these guys are hot – thank you by the way – but I’m not going to risk my marriage on a cheap stranger.”

Jared’s side is warm where it’s pressed against Jensen and he never ever wants them to be further away from each other than this. But Jensen is getting married in two fucking days and it's not just about things changing anymore. Jared’s not freaked out about Jensen living somewhere else, about them only seeing each other once a week, about time and circumstances driving a wedge into their epic friendship.

He’s in love with Jensen.

He’s in love with Jensen and he wants to tell him not to marry Justin, to give him a chance instead. Wants to say they could be happy too, that Jared could be just as good for him as Justin is. Better. Wants Jensen to ask Jared to marry him again, because if he does, Jared doesn’t think he’ll say no.

He finishes off the bottle and watches with a smile as one of the strippers pulls Jensen into a grind of hips and press of chests that’s more mating than it is dancing.

***

“Last chance,” Jensen tells him, voice all slurred and sloppy on booze. They’d woken up hung over on Sunday afternoon and decided the best way to feel better would be to drink more. Bad idea maybe, since Jensen is getting married the next day. Not until four in the afternoon though, so at least they can sleep in. “Tomorrow by this time I’ll be a married man. Sure you don’t want to step in? Be my lawfully wedded husband?”

Jared really, really does. In this moment Jared would kind of do whatever it took to become Mrs. Jensen Ackles. Except that Jensen doesn’t really mean it. Not anymore.

“You’re so full of shit, you know that?” He is. No way in hell Jensen would toss Justin to the side and run off with someone else. It’s just not who he is. Jared fucking loves him for it.

Jensen smiles and shrugs.

A few minutes pass before Jensen breaks the silence.

“I wasn’t always, you know.”

“Wasn’t always what?”

“Full of shit.”

“Huh?”

“When I asked you to marry me. That first time?”

Jared smiles at the memory. “You mean five minutes after we first met?” Jensen had been the financial advisor who’d opened up Jared’s savings account for him.

“Hey, I couldn’t pass up the chance to score me a guy with a cool six hundred to his name.”

“You always were a gold digger. Would you still be marrying Justin if he bagged groceries for a living?”

“I meant it though,” Jensen says, more serious. “I kinda fell in love you with you on the spot. If you’d said yes, we would have been honeymooning in Tahiti that same night. Hell, we’d probably have three kids by now.”

Jared tries his best to smile even though something tight wraps around his chest. “Good thing I said no then. Can you imagine us trying to raise children?”

The thing is, Jared sort of can.

***

It’s three in the morning and Jared can’t sleep.

This is it. This is his last chance, the last few hours he’ll ever spend with a single Jensen, the last chance to maybe make him change his mind. And even though he knows it’s an epically stupid idea he can’t help himself.

It’s like his legs are working on their own, walking him down the hall to Jensen’s bedroom. He pushes the door open and stops just past the threshold, stares at Jensen and his heart breaks at how beautiful he is.

How did he never see this before?

He’s utterly silent so when Jensen jerks awake and blinks at Jared’s silhouette there’s no other explanation than the crazy psychic bond that’s somehow connected them since Jared sat down on the other side of Jensen’s desk.

“Jared?” Jensen asks, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “What are…”

That’s as far as he gets before Jared is crossing the room, still not entirely sure he’s in control of his body, and crawls along the bed to settle next to Jensen.

Jensen just stares at him, licks his lips and Jared’s eyes are drawn to the movement. He kisses him.

Jensen lets out a quiet squawk but then his arm is around Jared’s back, running up and over the back of his neck. He’s kissing back. He’s really kissing back, his tongue in Jared’s mouth, licking over the roof, the back of his teeth.

Jared lets out a sigh of relief and presses forward, slotting one of his legs between Jensen’s. He can feel the growing hardness of Jensen’s cock along this thigh and presses his own erection into Jensen’s hip. It feels so good he wants to die. Wants to kidnap Jensen and take them both someplace they can be together forever.

But then Jensen suddenly goes still, pushes at Jared’s shoulders until their lips are separated and they’re both breathing heavily. Jared leans forward again, tries to capture Jensen’s lips, but Jensen presses a little more forcefully and holds him at bay.

“Jared… no,” Jensen mumbles and his eyes close, his face screws up like it hurts.

Good. Jared’s hurting too.

And then he realises what he’s just done and… fuck. Just fuck.

“Shit, Jensen… Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Jensen laughs, but it’s a broken sound. Not happy at all.

“What the hell?”

“I’m sorry. I just… I want to tell you you’re making a mistake with Justin but I just… I can’t. I’m the one that made a mistake. I love you, man. You were right; it should be us.”

Jensen face twists even more and Jared hates himself for causing that look.

“Why couldn’t you have figured this out a year ago?”

Jared tries for a smile but it comes out more a grimace. “I’ve always been kind of slow on the uptake.”

“I’m sorry, Jared,” Jensen says, taking in a deep breath. He kisses Jared one more time, just a gentle press of lips before he pulls away. “I can’t even remember a time when I haven’t been in love with you, think in a way I might always be. But Justin is… He’s a part of me. I’ve never been happier.”

Jared doesn’t bother fighting back the few tears that want to escape.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, nodding. “I know. I mean… this was a seriously dick move. I don’t even…”

“Hey,” Jensen smiles, rubbing his thumb over Jared’s cheek catching a salty tear. “I’m glad you did this. Really.”

Jared looks sceptical but Jensen smiles even wider and pulls Jared down so his head is resting on Jensen’s chest. “If you hadn’t, I would have had to go through my entire life without experiencing a lip lock with Jared Padalecki. And I’m pretty sure that’s a fate worse than death.”

Jared lets out a sad laugh.

“I’m serious,” Jensen tells him. “This was… Well, thank you.”

“Any time,” Jared says, and even though Jensen laughs him off, he’s entirely serious.

It’s almost an hour before they fall asleep, but when they do they’re still in the exact same position.

***

On Monday Jared does his job, stands next to Jensen, watches him marry another man and pretends that it doesn’t kill him.

Jensen is still his best friend, will always be his best friend. That’s never going away. And maybe one day he’ll find his very own happily ever after, with someone every bit as wonderful as Jensen.

And maybe one day he’ll sprout wings and fly, but hey. He’s not giving up hope.

He doesn’t bother biting back the tears, mostly of joy (only Jensen can see the tremor of regret and missed opportunity), as the judge asks for the rings and Jared hands them over.

When Jensen says “I do” Jared tries not to fall down.

Jensen’s steadying hand at the small of his back is the only thing that keeps him upright.

***

Jared’s phone rings six nights later and he barely manages to press the ‘answer’ button, lost in self-pity and loneliness, half drunk on wine. It’s his first Sunday night alone in more than six years. And Jensen is now contractually obligated to love someone else for the rest of his life.

Jared is yesterday’s news.

“Jared!” Jensen’s voice sounds through the tinny earpiece.

“Jensen?” he asks, and looks down at the phone like it somehow holds answers to questions he doesn’t even know yet. “It’s… shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?”

Two weeks in France. It sounded perfect when Jensen told him about it.

“It’s Sunday. Figured we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street over the phone together. I brought my laptop."

Jared can’t even stop smiling to save his life. It’s fucking Sunday. And Jensen remembered.

“But what if I’m too scared to sleep afterward?” he teases.

“I’ll stay on the line until the sun comes up, baby. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

For the first time in a long time, Jared thinks things might just be okay after all.

No matter what, they’ll always have Sunday night.

END


End file.
